


pass the horizon ('til i can't even see you)

by axsun



Series: illuminated by moon and fire [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Rise of Kyoshi
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, but - Freeform, i am projecting so hard, look im just projecting okay, more of my american au, this is so embarrassing but also, this is so niche i am sorry, yeah idk good luck y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axsun/pseuds/axsun
Summary: “I’ll be okay,” she says, voice muffled as she buries her face further into Kyoshi’s hoodie. “If I can’t find someone in the Classics department, then I’ll look for someone in Asian Studies. It’s just—“Rangi pauses before letting out a choking laugh, and Kyoshi’s stomach twists at the sound, squeezing Rangi even harder.“I wish she weren’t hovering over me,” Rangi says, voice quiet. “I wish she weren’t following me no matter what I did. Maybe if I went to Harvard—“Her voice breaks, and Kyoshi is filled with fury.“Harvard doesn’t know what they’re missing,” Kyoshi says. “It’s their loss they didn’t accept you. And those professors are stupid for rejecting you, too.”(Rangi is looked over. Kyoshi comforts her. Oh, and she pines. A lot.)
Relationships: Kyoshi/Rangi (Avatar)
Series: illuminated by moon and fire [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015338
Comments: 16
Kudos: 73





	pass the horizon ('til i can't even see you)

**Author's Note:**

> this fic (and entire series) takes place in a modern american au.
> 
> content warning: food.

Kyoshi knocks on the door and waits first, remembering the way Jinpa’s eyes flashed as he greeted her at the entrance to their floor.

“Good luck,” was all he said before he slipped past her, and so Kyoshi finds herself shifting a bit anxiously at the door before the door flings open.

“Oh,” Rangi says, squinting up at Kyoshi. “It’s you.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Kyoshi says. “Can I come in?”

Rangi scowls. “Isn’t your diff-EQ exam tomorrow?”

But Kyoshi’s prepared herself, and she hoists up the bag in her hand. “I have some _ xiao long bao _ . Pork and mushroom.”

Rangi only responds with a growl before she steps back to let Kyoshi in, Kyoshi making sure to tap her foot three times before crossing over to the hardwood floor of Rangi’s dorm. Rangi looks uncharacteristically like a mess; her maroon bed sheets are disheveled, her notebooks are scattered across her desk, and her topknot is on the verge of falling out completely. The girl flicks her hand at the other desk chair, its table next to hers and clear except for a desk organizer and lamp, and Kyoshi sits tentatively, holding the warm bag over her lap, watching as Rangi rummages through the minifridge in the back of the room.

There’s a buzz from Rangi’s phone as it vibrates, and to Kyoshi’s surprise, Rangi ignores it completely, pulling it out of her pocket and tossing it onto her bed, the comforter muffling its ringing. She pulls out two dishes and a pair of chopsticks, and to Kyoshi’s surprise, a bottle of lychee Calpico.

_ Rangi must be really upset if she wants to drink that _ , Kyoshi muses, and the look on Rangi’s face as she slams the fridge door shut and stalks back to her desk only serves to prove Kyoshi’s suspicions right.

“I don’t have any tea,” Rangi says, dropping the bottle on Jinpa’s desk, “so this will have to do.”

“I don’t mind,” Kyoshi says, going to pull out the glass container of xiao long bao. She’s brought soup spoons for the dumplings, and she pulls one out and offers it to Rangi, who takes it with shaking hands. She’s biting her lip and blinking furiously, and Kyoshi frowns, setting down the container.

“Hey,” she says, and Rangi doesn’t look at her, too intent on organizing the chopsticks and spoon atop her dish, and Kyoshi reaches out. “Rangi?”

“I got rejected, again!” Rangi bursts out, and she drops her metal chopsticks onto the china dish with a clatter that makes Kyoshi flinch. With the secret out, though, Rangi crumples into her desk chair, burying her face in her hands. “I— God, it’s the third professor, and I don’t—”

“Rangi,” Kyoshi says, and she scoots her chair over next to her friend, holding her arms out. Rangi doesn’t respond, just curls in further on herself.

“Mother thinks it’s because I’m not presenting myself well, but that’s bull, it’s not me, it’s—” Rangi hiccups before she spits out, " _ her _ ,” as if some sort of poison. There are tears dripping from her cheeks and falling onto her jeans, and Kyoshi resists the urge to wipe them away.

Kyoshi knows Rangi loves her mother very differently from how Kyoshi loves Kelsang, from the way she never hugs her mother to the way she speaks as if Hei-Ran were a military general, but Kyoshi knows that for Rangi to blame her mother for this one thing must be something serious. 

“Is this for research?”

Rangi hiccups again before nodding, her topknot bouncing dangerously and a few more strands slipping out of the rubber band.

“It’s— I’ve been emailing all the professors for history, but there are only two more and— they keep rejecting me and I know it’s—”

Rangi stops there, hiccups breaking up her speech, and wordlessly, Kyoshi opens the bottle of Calpico and passes it to her. Rangi takes it and manages to swallow a few gulps before she sets it back down, the bottle now a quarter empty, and she sniffles before wiping away the tears.

“It’s so stupid,” Rangi says, voice cracking, and Kyoshi’s heart breaks. “It’s just because my mother is the department head, and you know what she’s like. I expect they think I just weaseled my way into Honors and I’ll just do research with my mother and— and it’s—”

“Come here,” Kyoshi says, opening her arms, and Rangi hesitates just briefly before giving in, throwing her into Kyoshi’s chest and burying her face in her hoodie, arms clutching her as her body shakes with her sobs.

It makes Kyoshi furious, the way Rangi is held back under her mother’s shadow. Rangi is brilliant, smart, diligent— professors should feel honored Rangi asked to conduct research with them. Kyoshi holds Rangi as tightly as possible, lifting her subtly onto her lap so the position is more comfortable for both of them, and Rangi clings to her even more tightly, face tucked into Kyoshi’s shoulder and hair tickling Kyoshi’s nose. 

Rangi gets upset and looks for solutions. She seeks to improve and move on, and Kyoshi wracks her brain for just any sort of idea, any way to fix her solution. Briefly, she considers Lek to hack into the professor’s computer, but Rangi, knowing Kyoshi so well, shakes her head.

“I’ll be okay,” she says, voice muffled as she buries her face further into Kyoshi’s hoodie. “If I can’t find someone in the Classics department, then I’ll look for someone in Asian studies. It’s just—“

Rangi pauses before letting out a choking laugh, and Kyoshi’s stomach twists at the sound, squeezing Rangi even harder.

“I wish she weren’t hovering over me,” Rangi says, voice quiet. “I wish she weren’t following me no matter what I did. Maybe if I went to Harvard—“

Her voice breaks, and Kyoshi is filled with fury.

“Harvard doesn’t know what they’re missing,” Kyoshi says. “It’s their loss they didn’t accept you. And those professors are stupid for rejecting you, too.”

Rangi is quiet, too quiet, but her shaking has subsided and her sobbing has been relegated to less frequent hiccups, and Kyoshi, overwhelmed with a wave of love for her friend, dares to press a kiss to Rangi’s hair, lingering just a bit in her flower scent.

Slowly, Rangi retracts from Kyoshi’s shoulder, and she manages a small smile. Her eyeliner has smeared around her red eyes, her eyelids are swollen and puffy, and her cheeks are stained with tear tracks, but she has never looked so beautiful to Kyoshi, and her breath catches in her throat. Rangi leans forward, and Kyoshi’s heart stops.

But she presses her forehead to Kyoshi’s and sighs, and Kyoshi leans in as well, watching as Rangi’s eyes flutter shut.

“Thank you,” Rangi murmurs. “For being here for me.”

“Always,” Kyoshi says, voice twisted.  _ For as long as I live. _

A beat as they stay pressed together, and Kyoshi grows acutely aware of the way Rangi is straddling her and the way her hands rest on Rangi’s hips. Briefly, she wonders if it’s possible for them to stay this way forever, to keep Rangi this close and this warm, but then Rangi withdraws, her eyes twinkling and eyebrows relaxed.

“Stalknose mushrooms?” Rangi asks, and Kyoshi can’t help the smile that breaks across her face at the hopeful tone in her voice.

“Just for you,” Kyoshi says. She and Wong had made them earlier when Rangi mentioned she would drop by for dinner that night, but when she cancelled abruptly and Jinpa texted Kyoshi, it was only a matter of taking them to Rangi. 

“You should go,” Rangi says, shifting to get off Kyoshi’s lap. “Take a dumpling before you leave. I don’t want you to fail your exam.”

“I could take a break,” Kyoshi says. “I like being with you.”

She flushes at her confession and wonders if she’s blown it, but Rangi only smiles at her, so unnaturally tender and soft that Kyoshi can only return a dopey smile. 

“Just a short one,” Rangi agrees. “I won’t be responsible for being the reason you fail.”

When Kyoshi scoops a bun into each soup spoon and passes one to Rangi, she takes it with a nod of thanks. The dumplings have cooled by now, which makes eating them a little easier, and Kyoshi waits just a moment as she watches Rangi nip at the bun to let the soup inside trickle into the spoon before taking it between her lips to sip. Kyoshi mimics her actions, letting the taste of the pork and mushrooms wash over her tongue before she goes to eat the rest of the bun. Rangi is sipping from the bottle when Kyoshi finishes her bun, and Rangi wordlessly passes it to her. The juice is sweet and comfortingly nostalgic, and Kyoshi remembers sitting in her bedroom and trying the multitude of flavors with Rangi back in high school.

There’s a swell in Kyoshi’s chest that makes her squirm, and Rangi’s hand reaches out to brush over Kyoshi’s.

“Did you choke?” Rangi asks.

Kyoshi imagines her face probably contorted into a grimace, and she shakes her head, setting the bottle down. 

“I’m okay,” she says, feeling goosebumps form where Rangi’s fingers touched her.

Rangi nods and stands, offering a hand to Kyoshi and easily pulling her up from her seat before walking her to the door. Kyoshi follows just a step behind Rangi, close enough to feel her warmth and far enough to study the tiny birthmark at Rangi’s hairline.

“Thank you for the dumplings,” Rangi says finally, opening the door and turning to Kyoshi. “And for listening to me. It means a lot to me.”

Kyoshi resists the urge to squeeze Rangi again, knowing that with the door open, anyone could pass by, and Rangi wouldn’t want to be seen in such a compromising position, and instead nods. 

“Of course,” Kyoshi says. 

On instinct, she holds up her hand, palm out and fingers outstretched, and Rangi understands. Her own hand comes up and rests her palm against Kyoshi’s, and their fingers interlace, a brief moment of intimacy. The harsh hallway lights highlight Rangi’s features, casting intense shadows across her face, and Kyoshi raises her right hand to gently cup Rangi’s cheek, thumb stroking her cheekbone. Rangi nestles into the touch, eyes fluttering as Kyoshi swears she purrs, and Kyoshi resists the urge to kiss Rangi again.

A heartbeat passes, and Rangi moves her head out of Kyoshi’s touch and gently pushes her chest, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Go study,” Rangi says. “I’ll return the container to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Kyoshi croaks out, voice harsh, and her foot stumbles only a bit as she briefly taps against the dorm’s hardwood floor before slipping out into the hallway. “Bye Rangi.”

“Goodbye Kyoshi,” she returns, already closing the door. “Good luck.”

The door closes, and Kyoshi stands there for a bit, holding her right hand out just a bit, fingers just a little curled as if she were still holding Rangi’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> as this series develops, i just want to make a brief comment on the academic elitism in a lot of upper middle class asian american communities; i genuinely don't agree with the idea that an ivy league should be an end-all-be-all because at the end of the day, your college education is what YOU make out of it, not what professors/institutions are offered to you (and i say this after taking three semesters of college courses alongside high school). however, it is unfortunately a very big part of the life of most every asian american i know, what with culture revolving around academia in asia + the model minority myth that way too many upper class immigrants believe in, and i hope to at least explore that with some of the kyoshi characters. i promise i'll get there eventually, but stick with me, yeah? but also if you don't want to, i totally get it, no harm done.  
> anyways! rangi comfort. i think i'll explore their own coping mechanisms in the series but ye. i've planned out an outline? for what little plot i have? anyways   
> ye <3 happy winter solstice!! stay warm and stay safe :))


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